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Caravan: Resurrection

Baeshri Hills, A Few Kilometers Outside of Lalifell
_{3rd of Summer - 7:33 PM}

The buzzing grew and grew until it culminated around Rem and Ellorei entirely. But what may have seemed like a dangerous sign at first, was quickly revealed to be nothing more than a swarm of purple dragonflies finding their a way across the hills. The insects of Thoris, those too small to be considered threats, seemed to serve many purposes for the land, and went largely unexplored by Zoologists, even those that hail from the well-taught Nation of Leias. These purple variant of dragonfly were especially new to the ecosystem, only recently migrating at the start of the summer. Regardless of their origins, they seemed at ease around the two Druids, taking a moment to rest their wings as they approached from the north. Several hundred of the harmless little bugs perched themselves on the mushrooms that lined the path, the tree branches above, and even on top of Rem and Ellorei.

They didn't seem to pose any sort of threat, or show any concern for whether or not the two druids would be content with their arrival. But bugs like these had the capacity to attract unwanted attention. Of course, with the constantly evolving ecosystems around Thoris, it was hard to keep up with the ongoing trends, even for a druid.

Nillium Encampment, The Burroughs
_{3rd of Summer - 9:17 PM}

Mop swung his head from left to right like a broken metronome, skipping beats and shaking with a spurt of hiccups while the soldiers around him either watched with contempt or amusement. He was an entertaining fellow for some. Mop offered some much needed levity in contrast with the Don's strict teachings. He'd even gone as far as to disregard the rules for the sake of others. But taking advantage of his kindness was the last thing anybody wanted to do.

♫ Two more nasty Nilliums, *HICK* Brazen down... Down there under the dock! There under the dock! Nasty Nilliums, long and... and- *HICK* wah-whiiite! Teeth like daggers and eyes full of friiight! ♫

"Mop, yer gettin' the lyrics wrong," One of the men nearby complained with a coy smile. Mop rose his free hand to part his dirty black hair, while dragging his wine bottled across the cement with a shrill series of clinks. He looked at the man that giggled at his expense with a frown, revealing just enough of his face to express some level of disappointment with the comment. But a moment later, his dark brown eyes lit up and he laughed it off just as much. Just as quickly, he pulled his wine bottle up and sealed the mouth of the bottle against his lips. After a short chug, Mop sighed contently.

♫ Mister Paul, mister Paul! Always gotta talk shit, he's mister Paul! ♫

The apparent 'mister Paul' burst out laughing. That wasn't even remotely close to his name. An honest attempt by mister Mop though! You couldn't blame him. He was a little drunk.

The Guard that spotted Ayer and Paric almost looked away and disregarded what he'd saw, but with everyone else mesmerized by Mop's shenanigans, a spark of responsibility forced him to investigate. What if he was the one that ended up catching that guy that the bosses were going on about? What a fantastic thought! Nillium grunts were rewarded greatly for their efforts, after all! The Don was a generous man, as long as you didn't get one his bad side! That nameless guard, Philip Stevens, was suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of duty that made him feel as if he stood out for once!

"Ayer is over here! Ayer is over here! Help me!"

Philip was surprised that his efforts were suddenly made easier for him. He turned towards the group of men gathered around Mop for a moment to see if anyone else was listening to the man's shouts. It might've been hard to hear if they were being drowned out by Mop and the more overwhelming updates that blared across the Burroughs. A couple of men turned towards him, shook their heads, and waved him off to investigate by himself. That was a relief! When Philip turned back towards Paric, he was confident that he'd be doing the Nilliums a great service.

"Calm down," Philip commanded, approaching Paric slowly, "You're surrounded by soldiers. There's no need to panic." His voice was stiff, almost overburdened by his duties, like he was capable of natural speech, but too afraid to adopt his usual manner of communication around a civilian. "Where's the fugitive?" Even with a rigid posture, and a commanding tone of voice, it was difficult for Philip to hide how excited he was for an opportunity to prove himself.

From across the boardwalk, Mop continued singing. But before he dropped his hair, he glanced at Philip and Paric from where he sat. Even if only for a split second, his expression was uncharacteristically serious.

Baeshri Pass, Caravan Centaurus
_{3rd of Summer - 10:22 PM}

Noru went about his duties, moving between the members of Centaurus and the storage room rather quickly, with bottles and vials of regenerative potion in his hand between trips. He completely ignored the conversations that took place, casually lifting clothing and applying medical treatment in different fashions to anyone that needed it. When Flin spoke to the Captain, Noru forcibly lifted his shirt and felt along his upper chest for injuries. He seemed very perceptive for a man who acted like a block of wood at times.

Zay shook his head at Flin and waved his comment away like it was nothing. He didn't even look the man in the eyes as he dismissed it. "Don't worry about it, kid," he said quietly with a subtle smile. Truthfully, he was still a little shaken by the whole occurrence, but as acting captain, it was important for him to shake it off. They were in a terrible situation after all. Daelin approached him with a report, but Zay continued to walk past him as he spoke, listening as carefully as he could manage. He glanced at the Venbu that breathed heavily nearby as he entered the caravan. What a mess.

"I don't want anyone leaving the Caravan just yet," He grumbled, tossing the Caravan key to Daelin, "Lock the door, and make sure this thing is secure. Without Marilyn, Venbu are worthless. If we move, it's going to be on foot." Neal turned to Zay for a moment, but said nothing. "Still, staying here won't amount to anything. That group was too organized to be considered typical bandits. They might return, and if it's not them, we'll eventually get sniffed out by something equally, if not more dangerous. The Baeshri pass is nothing like the trading routes. Beasts will be upon us before sunrise." Zay sat down at the table and leaned into it.

"This is god-awful."

A Hero Tale {Complete}

The geyser only served to weaken the spheres slightly. They shrunk as they approached Jenso, but picked up in speed and stopped near either side of his head before exploding violently. Yzeira took a step forward and flourished his remaining four orbs.

"...Here you are, looking at me like you have even the slightest chance of victory. Killing my thralls, left and right..."

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

Managing Thirty characters

A Hero Tale {Complete}

The orbs quickly grew unstable upon being prodded, and exploded within the barrier, quickly breaking free and creating a dazzling display near the center of the battlefield. Yzeira sent two more orbs directly at Jenso, and his posture grew slightly tighter.

"...But you've come so far, regardless of your ignorance..." He continued, his voice getting slightly slower with each word.

Caravan: Resurrection

Smor'Gen'Blok, the Collapsing Wor Hearth Site
_{3rd of Summer - 10:01 AM}

Za'Kul's efforts were mirrored by many survivors that had already reached one of the exit tunnels. Lok'Sha could make slightly longer jumps than most races, and ignored the rough rock faces with their harder-than-stone soles. But War'Da'Li was not accustom to travel despite her race. She was a smith, first and foremost, and burdened with the sudden loss of family. Even with the ever present spirit of a Lok'Sha, the light inside of her was quickly dwindling, and with it, the will to live. She slowly fell further and further behind Za'Kul, barely able to keep him in her sights. The fact that a dark skin was willing to help her did little to sate her delicate emotional state. With everything crashing down around her, War'Da'Li felt as null as the stone she leaped across.

It was an unfortunate result. A moment of distraction, and the woman landed awkwardly on her right foot, twisting it painfully and careening down the 45 degree rock face she'd chosen to jump to. One of her hands slammed into the stone, creating a small crack for her to take hold of, but the entire platform was sinking quickly, as well as the tents and boulders around her. Another stone fell from the ceiling, crashing into the ground merely 30 feet away. The stone she clung to jutted up further, but she managed to hold on despite not clinging to a sheer rock face.

As Za'Kul approached the southern tunnel, there were already plenty of Lok'Sha standing at the edge of the cave's mouth, glaring at their home as it crumbled before them. When they saw a dark-skin approaching, the first thing that came to mind wasn't to aid him. The wall of Wor Tribesmen stepped forward, covering the tunnel's entrance as Za'Kul approached. Their judgmental stares locked on to him, almost creating a physical force with their combined contempt.

"Terrorist!" one of the survivors called out. A series of shouts of a similar nature followed. Za'Kul quickly became the target of a coordinated verbal attack. Being yelled at for his Tribe's standing was nothing new, but that wasn't the issue he would face. They weren't going to let him pass them. The remaining Wor tribesmen acted as a barrier, keeping the narrow tunnel completely sealed off from the Kul tribesman.

Baeshri Hills, A Few Kilometers Outside of Lalifell
_{3rd of Summer - 7:32 PM}

As the Wisp-Caps lit up along the side of their trail, the air itself felt as if it were flooded with a soft cloud of mana. It was a sensitive aura that only the most perceptive of mages would pick up on, uncommon in the wilds. The natives saw it as a warning, but Thoris was a constantly evolving mystery that refused to be tamed by the knowledge of its races.

Small pupae rested quietly on the underside of a few mushrooms. When Rem picked a wisp-cap from the collage, a few of the cocoons underneath it fell to the ground and bounced towards his feet. Small, translucent chrysalis' were feeding on the nutrients within the plant life. But moments after their host organism had been picked, the once pure-white pupae quickly shriveled up and became a smelly black sludge. Some of the gunk had grazed Rem's shoe, leaving a quickly-formed burn mark where it had made contact, while also searing the ground wherever the little cocoons had melted. Moments after, a very subtle buzzing became audible from behind. The sound grew in frequency over time, but its origin wasn't immediately obvious.

Nillium Encampment, The Burroughs
_{3rd of Summer - 9:16 PM}

Nillium gang members caught the sight of Ayer and his new accomplice as soon as they began hopping between the tightly-packed buildings. Both men occasionally fell out of their line of sight as the rooftops rose and fell along the horizon, but they were sure of it in only a minute. Those men were heading for the ship yard. Unfortunately for Ayer, the guard were not bound by any sort of threat like he and his ally were. So they did was any reasonable guardsmen would do, under no threat of being 'caught' by pursuers.

"THEY'RE HEADING FOR THE SHIPYARD! WEST! WEST! CUT THEM OFF!"

Several more shouted echoed through the streets, with little care for anyone who may have been sleeping, or looking forward to a quiet night in their homes. Within mere minutes, the 30-something guards that littered the streets had grown to number in the eighties. But with the uneven and unpredictable path that the two fugitives took, they were fortunate enough to evade a direct encounter with the guards.

But at the rate they were moving, it was only a manner of time before even more of the guard closed in on them. Their positioning would eventually corner them at the western docks, with their only option being to escape by sea. What made matters worse, was how close Henry and his squad had gotten in such a short period of time. At the rate that he and his goons were running, they would catch up with the two athletically challenged roof-jumpers within the hour.

The luck that Ayer and Paric saw in their short venture had come to a quick end. Reaching the Burroughs' edge put them within walking distance of the docks. From where they stood now, they could see it all. More than ten trade ships, and dozens of smaller boats lined the docks all the way to where the docks met Nillium's outer wall. As positive as it may have seemed, all hope might have faded when the men realized that, to match the dozens of ships, there were dozens of men patrolling the boats, and nearby housing. Fortunately for them, none of the guards had a good fix of exactly where they might have been. How long their subterfuge would last could have varied dramatically though. The guards were already on high alert with all the shouting that cascaded from the depths of Nillium.

To add insult to injury, Julius Barrel and Locke 'Mop', two of Nillium's five commanders, as it were, had been present at the docks since the afternoon. Julius was on board the Nillium's Fang that rested at the edge of the main boardwalk. The mop on the other hand, was getting drunk outside of his cabin near the base of the very same dock. Ayer and Paric could see him very clearly. He was a popular one, that mop, seeing how he was the most lax out of Nillium's five. His shaggy black hair always obscured most of his face, but Locke was the jolly sort. The popular sort. Nobody really understood why such a raggedy man - a man who always dressed in smelly rags and usually had a bottle of wine somewhere on his person - held such an important title. Maybe it was how he could rally the troops? Or maybe he had some kind of connection with the Don? Either way, tonight clearly wasn't his night to shine. He looked barely conscious from where Ayer and Paric stood, loosely clutching the mouth of a wine-bottle at his waist while he rested against the edge of the cabin. He was singing sea shanties to himself, or something. It was hard to make out from so far away, but his voice was loud and groggy. Loud enough that the guards nearby were distracted by his... Pleasant melody.

One of the guards that patrolled the dock looked up at where Paric and Ayer were stationed absentmindedly, catching the slightest glimpse of their outline against the moonlight. Had they already been caught?

Baeshri Pass, Caravan Centaurus
_{3rd of Summer - 10:20 PM}

Noru nodded to himself and lowered Lyullia's pant-leg once he was finished. "Give that an hour before putting weight on it," He warned her. Then he walked towards the storage room in a rush, looking to gather more supplies to treat everyone's injuries. When Daelin came into the back room, Noru ignored him entirely, almost obsessed with his task of tending to the injured.

Neal stepped aside and Flin and Daelin entered the caravan, before forcefully picking Pyra up and carrying him inside as well, quickly as he could manage. He moved Pyra over to one of the undamaged lower bunks, and gently placed him on top of it. "Good show, Eldi," He complimented the battered and abused knight, "Color me surprised." Neal looked back at Daelin as he came back into the common area with his crossbow at the ready. The captain huffed contently and closed his eyes. He was fortunate to have been found by Centaurus. They seemed like a capable bunch in the face of danger. Maybe if he'd had these knights around, his squad wouldn't have been... Captain Geroldus flinched at the though and opened his eyes, realizing that he'd been leaning over Pyra for an uncomfortable period of time. He shifted around awkwardly and nodded to the Eldi, even if he probably couldn't see through the punishment he'd received. He might've not even been conscious!

With the Myti assault over and done with, Zay sighed a breath of relief. His injuries were finally setting in. Both his sprained ankle, and broken wrist flared up with an unexpected onslaught of agony. So much for adrenaline. He almost wished that his opponent had stuck around for a while longer. He smiled when he heard Daelin's voice and limped towards the hatch.

"Nothing to worry about," He assured Daelin, turning around and climbing down the ladder as slowly as he could manage. "What about the others?"

Southern Trading Route, Yet Another Wrecked Caravan.
_{3rd of Summer - 10:21 PM}

Blake fidgeted while he sat on top of a hefty pile of armor and picked his teeth with a silver pin. His hammer was planted in yet another corpse near his feet, firmly enough to stand upright.

"Another friggin' paladin, eh?" Blake grunted. Second Lieutenant Komo Milia adjusted his glasses and nodded.

"Sorry, sir. I didn't know!" The Male Myti assured him. Blake rolled his eyes and rubbed his scruff. "I really didn't!"

"Don't get yer tail in a knot, Komo. It 'aint your fault." Komo sighed and nodded. "We were expecting it this time. Sasha ran into the same issue earlier, didn't she? Even lady Nix had her suspicions. Why else would she give us all a stone?"

"Of course. Still, It's unacceptable that I didn't-"

"Shaddup!" Komo flinched backwards and fiddled with his hands, unsure of where to place them as Blake flicked his silver pin at him. "We dealt with it! Simple! As long as you do what yer s'pose ta, everything will be fine." Komo nodded. Blake grunted. "Still not too jolly about running into two of these bastards in one day." The massive man reached up to his right ear, or rather what was left of it, and wiped away a copious amount of blood. "I rather liked hearin' things."

"I'm sure lady Nix can fix that-"

"Oh yeah! Lemme just go right up to a fuckin' page of Eldi Mythos and ask for a patch job! Please, m'lady! I know you're busy torturin' humans and such with all your free time, but could'ya grow me an ear real quick-like?" Komo's mouth quivered, and he nodded again. Blake grunted. One of his men approached him and offered a crude mockery of Arcadia's salute.

"Supplies cleared out, boss."

"'Bout damn time." Blake sighed, grabbed the handle of his hammer, and pulled himself onto his feet. "Let's get goin'. I need a nap-" He stopped and looked down at his thigh.

_{"B..k....la.e!...BLAKE!"}

He reached into his pocket and put one hand on his Psy-stone, but was immediately met with an unpleasant series of screeches.

_{"PICK UP YOUR DAMN STONE YOU MISERABLE IDIOT!"}

He felt his head ring as it was assailed by Sasha's agitated screeching, but rose a hand to his goon as she began to speak. Komo looked at him curiously and lowered his hands.

_{"We need you to clean something up."}

Blake smiled.

"Again?"

Caravan: Resurrection

Nillium Encampment, The Main Roadway
9:12 PM

Henry Delvitch walked casually at the center of a town patrol, surrounded be at least twenty men. He seemed terribly dour as his men combed the crevices lining Nillium's main roadway. This was not how he wanted to spend his evening. But of course, something had to be done about another entitled little asshole that thought they could escape the watchful eyes of Nillium's soldiers. Usually, something so small wouldn't put the entire town on high alert. But this time was a little different. This time there were some war-changing schematics at risk.

Ayer Lecomte, a wretched and naive fool. He'd approached the Don with his designs a week ago. They were weapons, plain and simple, but that miserable oaf seemed to have something other than military might on his mind. Of course, him babbling on about his grand scheme, or great prophecy, or whatever the hell he called it, was none of their concern. The Nilliums just wanted a way to mass produce his nifty little death machines. Unfortunately, Ayer had escaped long before Nillium's researchers could plunder, or even hope to replicate all of his devices. Those that they manged to commandeer were completely alien in their craft, and wouldn't you know it, that rat bastard was a little better at running away than anyone gave him credit for. Henry was especially humiliated by his unit's failure to keep him in his quarters. How that scrawny bastard had even figured out their intents was beyond him. Maybe he was a little smarter than he looked? He had to be. No idiot could create something that advanced.

There was no escaping the encampment though. No way in hell. Although the town guard lacked in many regards, the walls that kept their city safe were iron-tight. The Don prided himself on access control above all else and didn't take kindly to people with second thoughts. Once you entered Nillium, willfully or otherwise, the only way out was in a body bag.

Men split off from Henry's group in pairs, checking the alleyways and dipping into houses unannounced as they moved down the main street. Some climbed to the roof-tops and scanned the surrounding buildings, while others dove into the gutter that snaked through the entire town, into the ocean. Henry's group hadn't had any luck just yet, but the main street lead straight for the only way out of Nillium. If that crazy scientist wanted out, he'd have to make his way towards the Main Gate at one point or another. It was one of the only two ways inside the wall, the other being through Nillium's gutter. But that guy didn't look like he was climbing sheer concrete faces any time soon. Besides, several search parties were already sweeping areas nearest to the outer walls.

Those that found nothing returned to Henry with confirmation.

'aye, empty'
'Nobody'
'Nothing'
'It's clear Henry'

The constant slew of failure did little to alleviate the man's sour mood. He rubbed his balding head vigorously, pushing back a migraine as his men continued their duties. Little did he know, their target was nowhere near his unit. But a glint of hope struck him, finally.

"Henry!" A man shouted across the street, running towards Henry's group from the Burroughs, "We found him!" Like a machine, Henry snapped towards the man with a tired expression. He rose his hand and stopped the messenger half-way across the street.

"Lead us there."

Nillium Encampment, The Burroughs
9:02 PM

Buildings were packed tightly in the Burroughs, leaving only small walkways, slim alleyways, and the gutter to navigate the heavily-fortified part of Nillium. It hugged 50% of the outer wall and made up almost 20% of the town, acting as a sturdy defense against attackers from the west. Of course, it also made for a terribly efficient hiding place for intruders. The rooftops were layered in a complicated manner, leaving places for people to hide, jump between buildings, and dive indoors at a whim. But with so many people patrolling the city, it was only a matter of time before people like Ayer were caught.

There were at least thirty men worming their way through the paths and alleys below, and more making their way to rooftops in sequence. They weren't going to leave any stone un-turned in their search. Half-measures were met with heavy punishment. Although the men working under Nillium's Don were not professionally trained, they were exceptionally persistent in their duties. Nobody bothered questioning their role though. Despite the tough teachings of Nillium's Five, loyal and consistent grunts were treated very well.

Three men were atop a few higher hanging roofs already, lining the edge of Nillium's Burroughs. Others wormed around, creating a mine-field throughout the grouping of structures. But none of them had demonstrated exceptional use of magic in their chase of Ayer. A few telekinetic attacks here, some elemental mastery there, but nothing to warrant worry. It seemed that the Nilliums were more familiar with swords than magic. Almost every single guard wielded a sharp piece of metal around their waist, whether it was a cutlass, dagger, or rusty shank.

The group that met Paric's flare were not stopped for long. A few of them suffered a momentary shock to their senses, while the man who took the brunt of his blast almost fainted from the combined exposure of light and sound. As soon as they were able to recuperate, perhaps 30 seconds or so, those that could still move continued their patrol. Two of the men ran up the stairwell that Ayer and Paric had used to escape them earlier, while the others sought similar patrol routes. From where they stood though, the outer wall was visible, just beyond 4 rows of uneven rooftops. But between them and it, there were likely to be guards. Not only that, but scaling the wall itself was to be a task of its own. The highest rooftops were just high enough for the most athletic to jump across, but if the guards were competent, they would have had those buildings locked down. Of course, the West Shipyard was just as close, and there were plenty of boats for the taking. But those massive wooden vessels were a significant cog in their distribution network. For them to leave their ships unguarded would be tantamount for structural suicide.

Paric couldn't have possibly known just how badly the Nilliums wanted Ayer under lock and Key though. Ayer himself might have underestimated how desperate they were to get hold of his technology as well. Regardless of what they knew, or how they chose to approach their encroaching fate, the result of their actions would be clear shortly.

It really was only a matter of time.

Nillium Encampment, Don Nillium's House
Earlier that night - 8:32 PM

The edge of Nillium's mainland encampment was where the docks sat, lined up from the west coat to the east coast. The western Shipyard was far more compact, and held the brunt of their fleet, while the east coast was dedicated to fishing and diving operations. In the east, sitting half a kilometer away from the seashore, was also where the Don's humble home sat. Despite its unassuming appearance, it was one of the most heavily fortified locations in all of Nillium.

"We can't - It's impossible, Don!" Hedwick Nillium exclaimed, standing before his Don with one of Ayer's stolen contraptions on hand. The Don rolled his eyes at his supposed scientist's objections, one hand tapping the golden trim of his chair. "It's far more complex than anything I've ever seen. We haven't even had a chance to get our hands on a real Psy-Stone. You can't expect us to make leaps and bounds here. We need his guidance."

"I'm not too sure he'll be willing," Don Nillium sighed, "My men tell me he's a bit... Opposed to violence and conflict. If he's not as stupid as he looks, he'll have figured out what we plan to do with his creations by now." The Don tapped faster on his chair's arm, pushing himself deeper into the velvet cushions. Hedwick lowered Ayer's device, waiting for some kind of order as he stood perched over the coffee table. Don inhaled deeply and straightened his posture. "I'm going to make pasta," he sung, with a tinge of sarcasm in his voice, "Would you like some?" Hedwick blinked.

"Uh, no. Thank you."

"We'll approach him tomorrow about it - his inventions - and offer him an ultimatum. Most men crack under the threat of torture. I'm sure this Ayer fellow is no different. In fact, I suspect he'll crack if we gently tug at his ears." Don chuckled and stood up, moving towards the open kitchen near the back of his house. The ground rang hollow as his leather boots knocked against the wooden floor, and he opened a drawer. He looked at the contents and furrowed his brow. "On second thought, perhaps we should approach him tonight."

"You don't think he's-"

"I'm missing a knife," Nillium hissed. Hedwick froze. "I could have sworn it was here."

"I'll tell Henry and Bertha to fetch him right aw-"

"Ask Bertha if she took my knife while you're at it," Don quickly interrupted, "That woman's fingers are stickier than gutter juice." Hedwick nodded and placed Ayer's machine on the Don's coffee table.

"I hope to return with good news."

"Yes," Don muttered to himself, "Good news."

Caravan: Resurrection

Baeshri Pass, Caravan Centaurus
10:04 PM

Daelin's bluff didn't do much to dissuade the assassin. She offered him a small smile and brought her nail even closer to Pyra's throat. He wasn't going to disregard his ally! What kind of Caravan would run itself with such reprehensible morals? She took a step back and growled. She didn't consider the smell of metal around Daelin's waste to be anything more than a dagger or some other sort of concealed weapon, and prepared herself to parry with her free hand, just in case. But when Daelin rose the spray can, she wasn't prepared to deal with a face-full of monster-strength mace. Her eyes narrowed and all of her senses were overwhelmed by a sudden jolt. She threw Pyra forward and took a single step back, before back-flipping out of the Caravan and blindly charging away, towards the trench nearby.

Noru glared at Flin and Pyra as they both approached the doorway. "Get them inside," Noru ordered, "Once everyone is safe, we can come up with a plan."

"And your Captain?" Neal quipped. Noru didn't have an answer for him. He moved towards Lyullia's leg quietly and moved the fabric of her clothing so that he could feel for the fracture.

"We can't risk moving without a plan." Noru didn't have to feel for long. Lyullia's injury was already obvious enough from her reaction, and the break was clean. Using the liquid as his disposal, he placed it against her shin and slowly began to mend her wound. Neal grunted and rushed to the doorway.

_"Orders?"

Sasha stopped hard on her right foot and spun away from Zay. Without any delay, she hopped from the Caravan and landed hard on the trail below.

_{"Mission failed. Report to Nix"}

Sprinting wildly, Sasha disappeared into the forest in a manner of seconds, Leaving Zay bewildered and unable to react as he approached the railing to shoot at her. By the time he raised his hand to conjure a metal shard, his armor began to give way. With the last of his safely accessible mana exhausted, he was in no condition to give chase - Not that he had any desire to. That Myti was something else. Most of them were frail, despite their almost omnipotent senses. But that one? She was a beastly creature.

Baeshri Hills, Lalifell
7:37 PM

Not many knew of the settlement that sat in the patch of forest reaching out into Baeshri hills. Where the ground evened out, and the trees could realistically flourish, there sat a crudely walled-off grouping of no more than 700 people at most. It was not uncommon for some to branch off from the capitol Nations of Thoris, but it was a rarity to see so few surviving in such a tightly packed space.

Lalifell was surrounded by wooden spikes, tied closely together, leaned against one another, and buried part-way into the ground to make a hollow, triangular structure that surrounded the village. The top of these angled walls were protected by the sharpened edges of the wood, all of which were lined with a long-lasting poison, lethal to most creatures after only a scrape. Within the wall, there were men and women posted guard. Small gaps in the wood allowed them to peer out into the surrounding forest freely, while crude wooden devices of a magical nature acted as alarms to alert the village if any dangers posed a thread to those inside. Alarm Runes, crude as they may be, were a fairly common creation in Marrenfall. The only reason that they'd seen little use elsewhere, was because they had the tendency to attract unwanted attention and cause unwarranted panic. Not only that, but with the overbearing usefulness and prominence of Psy-Stones, the more organized military in Nations like Arcadia and Kel had no need to concern the majority of its population with the danger of monster attacks. That was assuming anything could even penetrate their titanic walls in the first place. Lalifell was not gifted with more then 50 inches of concrete. Their meek little fortress was all they had, and they were fortunate enough to have that.

At the only gateway into the village, several children congregated and waved to the watch-towers that overlooked Lalifell's entrance. A few men were standing guard, armed with bows. One of the men, an Eldi by the name of Fio Blanche, wielded an entirely different kind of contraption. It looked more like a spear, a weapon that held little usefulness when posted up high, but he held it like a massive crossbow with one hand firmly grasping the aqua-marine tip of the artifact. Fio was the first to notice the children's approach.

"Open," He whispered into the ear of his nearby compatriot. The man rose his hands and conjured a fair amount of arcane energy towards a series of pulleys and levers that operated the gate. Rows of wooden logs, tightly bound by rope and melded together in several placed with magic, all began to rise in unison, leaving a space for the children to quickly dart inside before it closed again. Fio sighed. "We will need to find out how they're getting out eventually," He murmured to himself. The man next to him rolled his eyes.

Caravan: Resurrection

Smor’Gen’Blok

Hi'Wor Hearthstone Site

Ju'Kul reached out towards his ally, but the falling debris cut him off from the Chief's son and forced him away. He didn't hesitate when hearing Za'Kul's announcement. He couldn't hesitate. If he made one wrong move, the cracks that snaked their way across the floor of the hearth site would swallow him whole and condemn Ju'Kul to the darkness below. With a heavy heart, and as much precision as he could muster, the man was able to make his away through the hordes of panicked citizens without falling into harm's way.

The floor beneath the Wor and Za'Kul was beginning to slide deeper into the ground. The earth around them started to rise. Either that, or they were starting to fall. As the axis that they stood on tilted, the rock that pinned down the elderly Lok'Sha slowly began to roll downwards, crushing his upper body and toppling towards his granddaughter and the Kul interloper.

As Ju'Kul reached the edge of the cavern, all was calm. The point at which the Wor's totem of chieftans stood was not shaking or crumbling at all. He turned towards Wor's hearth stone, and watched as it cracked and sunk into the ground below. the roof of their cavern seemed to be relatively stable, despite a few large boulders falling to crush those that stood below. On the other hand, the floor and the pathways that once lined their cavern's walls were falling into the abyss below. This was not a natural quake, Ju'Kul knew it almost instantly. But how could this be the work of subterranean monsters with the raw power of Wor's hearthstone keeping them at bay. He glanced up at the mouths of tunnels that lead to different parts of the Wor tribe, where Lok'Sha stood in dismay as the center of their civilization slowly slunk away into the darkness below. The Kul Tribesman grunted and spun away from the scene. He had to make sure that his own Tribe was in one piece.

* * *

Earlier in the Day, 5:15 AM
Smor'Gen'Blok, Lu'Li'Po's Tent atop the Lok'Tri'Sha'Ra

Wor'Boa was kneeling before his apparent war-chief, panting heavily while barely able to support his own body weight. Ovor'Pella stood between him and Lu'Li'Po with her partisan muddled in Lok'Sha blood.

"A pitiful attempt," Lu'Li'Po grunted, "Koal'O taught you nothing of subtlety."

"Subtlety... Treacherous tool..."

"A tool that the warlord could have used to bring the Paladins to shambles. Perhaps it is good that you were an influence on his strategies. The arrogant and archaic traditions of our people may have been the only thing keeping the Lok'Sha from becoming a true plague to the world." Lu'Li'Po nodded to Ovor'Pella. "I had hoped we could reason, but the word the travels through the cracks has rung true. You and your tribe are a problem to be dealt with."

"Wor will crush you... We have many ally..."

"You do not know of what you speak."

"Many ally who wish for old way!" Wor'Boa roared, slamming his chest just above where a large red gash ha split his stomach wide open. "Strike down Wor, many follow. You make civil war. You make war with own people. Wor'Boa is... Martyr." The man smiled and coughed up a copious amount of blood. His voice faltered despite the sudden outburst, growing weaker with each syllable that followed. "Body worn by curse of Rajaka. I know this. Never win, I never kill you. But I die for Koal'O. I die for Warlord's belief, for the good of Lok'Sha. You kill your own rule by striking me down."

Lu'Li'Po cringed.

Wor'Boa smiled.

"Subtlety"

The room was silent for a few moments as Wor'Boa continue to bleed out. Lu'Li'Po walked closer to him and knelt in front of the Wor's chief in his final moments. He rose his eyes to meet hers with the same smile painted across his face. But his expression faded when he noticed that she too wore a smile denoting her victory.

"If I were to come down to the deeper tunnels and wipe out your tribe myself with a hoard of warriors at my beck and call, then yes. Yes, your tribe's demise would have brought this nation to its knees. My rule would not hold for even a week." She moved a little closer and rose his face with the edge of her right hand. He didn't have the power in him to fight against her motion. "But, Wor'Boa, what if the Dark skins whom you and your people have oppressed for so long, ended up joining forces to crush your tribe? What if it all took place, naturally? All without an order from their Queen?" Her self-purported title and implications made Wor'Boa recoil with the last of his strength.

"Wuh... Wah...?"

"Subtlety"

Wor'Boa's body went cold quickly. His jaw trembled against Lu'Li'Po's hand and he fell backwards, pulling himself away from the woman as a sudden pang of fear and regret washed over him.

"You... You are... Demon!" He rasped. Lu'Li'Po stood up and glared at him with her arms crossed as the light left his eyes. "D...D-d-dem...on..." In his final moments, Wor'Boa was nothing more than a cowering bully.

"No," Lu'Li'Po whispered to herself, "I am a Queen."

A Hero Tale {Complete}

The two spears were destroyed in the explosion, but consumed Jenso's energy in the same moment, not leaving even a puff of smoke behind. The man turned towards Jenso again and sent two more of his orbs towards the man, each spiraling around one another as they rushed towards him.

"I doubt you understand much..." He started.

Caravan: Resurrection

Kel, Marvis Astorian's Manor

"Grandfather said a great many things, his words don't concern me," Marvis grunted, "But if what you're telling me holds any ground, then it warrants further investigation, at the very least. Still, I have no authority to move Kel's forces of my own volition. Not without attracting the ever present glares of my peers. Unless the high chancellor were to order it, your efforts would be in vain." The middle-aged Eldi cleared his throat. What he said was true. Even while holding the second highest rank in all of Kel's government, Chancellor Astorian had no more authority than a mouthy politician. For him to go to the public for help would likely end in disaster as well. With how on-edge things have been for the past decade, and how tyrannical the government had become, moving as a single machine was almost impossible. It was a matter of listening to those who held the power.

Unfortunately for Marvis, and the rest of the Nation, Titles held very little power when contrasted with malignant desires.

"If I'm to be honest, Cousin, you're addressing a power that has long since lost hold of the reins on Kel. It should be no secret to the politically learned, that corruption runs deeply enough through our nation to taint its very principals." Marvis stopped himself. "You'd be better off finding help elsewhere."

Kel, Underworld; The Whispering Cove

Finnick's hands froze and the counter top went silent. The little old man slowly looked up at vetch with a wry little smile and set his bobble aside. "M'lady never fails to disappoint!" Without another moment of delay, Finnick hobbled towards his back room and rummaged through one of the slightly more... Organized piles of junk behind his counter. A puff of smoke erupted from the crevice he reached into, coating his face with a black substance, but he was able to pull the requested item out of the nook without much trouble.

"I hope yeh' don' mind a lil' soot!" Finnick mused, patting the pouch clean with his hands, and then promptly wiping his face as he returned to the counter. "There we ar', one Kilo as promise." Finnick slapped the pouch onto the table and held out his hand patiently.